


would you lie with me

by nightswatch



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 21:58:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2126040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire has an incredibly comfortable bed, which is something his friends frequently take advantage of. Even Enjolras ends up there on a couple of occasions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	would you lie with me

Grantaire often made jokes about people only loving him for his bed. Obviously he was only half-serious about it most of the time, but it was a fact that his friends often dropped by just to take a nap.

He didn’t mind, not at all, it was nice having them around.

And he had to admit, he did have a pretty great bed. It was king-sized, the mattress was nothing short of perfect, he had myriads of pillows, an especially fuzzy blanket, and he’d put it right underneath the skylight, so he could watch the stars at night when he couldn’t sleep.

Jehan often slept over, always telling him stories before they went to sleep, Courfeyrac had stayed over on several occasions, cuddling up to him at night, Joly and Bossuet were regular guests, too, especially after they’d been out and they didn’t make it further than his apartment, sometimes Bahorel came over, always bringing takeout, and once Combeferre, when he’d been in dire need of a quiet place to read.

Enjolras, as much as Grantaire thought about it, had never even set foot into his bedroom. Grantaire thought about it sometimes, even though he knew that he shouldn’t, it just wasn’t right, but he wondered what it would be like to fall into bed with Enjolras and look at the stars at night or listen to the rain, and what it would feel like to hold him close at night and wake up next to him in the morning.

Well, eventually Enjolras did end up in his bed, but in an entirely different way than Grantaire had played out in his mind on several occasions. It was when he fell asleep during a movie night at Grantaire’s place.

“He had his last exam this morning, poor thing,” Courfeyrac said, gently stroking Enjolras’ hair. “I’m pretty sure that he hasn’t slept all week.”

“Grantaire, do you have a blanket for him?” Combeferre asked, leaning across Courfeyrac to look at Enjolras.

“Or we could carry him over to your bed, I mean, we’d have more space on the couch, then,” Courfeyrac suggested. “You take his arms, I’ll take his feet.”

“It’s okay, I got him,” Bahorel piped up and picked Enjolras up as if he was as light as a feather.

Grantaire wordlessly opened the doors of the living room and his bedroom for Bahorel, watched as he put Enjolras down on his bed, smiling when Enjolras nuzzled into a pillow. Grantaire spread his fuzzy blanket over him, trying not to linger for too long since Bahorel was still hovering by the door, and then they returned to the others as quietly as they could.

When their movie night was over, Combeferre, Courfeyrac and Grantaire gathered in his bedroom room, looking at Enjolras, who was still fast asleep, his features soft in the pale moonlight that filtered in through the skylight.

“He’s so adorable,” Courfeyrac whispered.

“He looks so much less menacing when he’s asleep,” Grantaire mused. “What do you think he dreams about? He definitely looks too peaceful to be dreaming about overthrowing governments."

Courfeyrac snorted. “Kittens probably. He always coos at Joly’s kittens when he thinks that no one is looking.”

Combeferre cleared his throat, interrupting Courfeyrac’s babbling. “Well, what do we do?”

“You could go wake him up,” Courfeyrac suggested, nudging Combeferre.

“Or _you_ could wake him up,” Combeferre said lowly.

“I told you, I can’t wake him up, he’s sleeping for the first time in a week.”

“Well, you could just let him sleep,” Grantaire threw in. “I mean, it won’t kill me to sleep on the couch. And I’ll feed him in the morning, I promise.”

“Are you sure?” Combeferre asked. “I’m sure he wouldn’t want to impose on you.”

“Honestly, for a night in that bed he definitely would want to impose on him,” Courfeyrac said.

Grantaire grinned. “How about you stay, too?”

Courfeyrac’s face lit up immediately. “Really?”

“Sure, I bet Enjolras won’t mind sharing,” Grantaire said. “As far as I can tell he hasn’t moved in about five hours.”

“I love you,” Courfeyrac whispered and gave him a hug before he skipped off to bed.

“You have a blow-up mattress, don’t you?” Combeferre asked.

Grantaire looked up at him, nodding.

“I’ll take that one, then.”

When Grantaire woke up in the morning, the blow-up mattress seemed to be back where it belonged and he found Combeferre in his kitchen, making waffles and coffee. Grantaire had almost forgotten that he even owned a waffle maker.

Courfeyrac came padding into the kitchen behind him, patted Combeferre on the back and sat down next to Grantaire, leaning his head on his shoulder. “Your bed is fantastic, and I know I’ve told you this before, but I want to marry your bed, I want to marry it so much.”

Combeferre laughed and set down two plates with waffles in front of them. “Thanks for letting us stay over.”

“I love you, too,” Courfeyrac said, smiling up at Combeferre. “Almost as much as the bed.”

Combeferre only stared back at Courfeyrac, obviously at a loss for words, and Grantaire was pretty sure that he’d just witnessed a quite spectacular event, because Combeferre was generally very hard to silence. He didn’t have much time to think about it, though, because Enjolras shuffled into the kitchen, his hair pretty much as perfect as always, but also bleary-eyed and yawning.

He sat down and made a vague sort of grunting sound. Whatever it meant, Combeferre seemed to understand and handed Enjolras a cup of coffee.

Enjolras took a sip and let out a content sigh. Grantaire was pretty sure that he was having a stroke.

“Your bed,” Enjolras said, turning to Grantaire, “is amazing.”

“I told you a billion times, but you wouldn’t believe me,” Courfeyrac said, shaking his head.

“It is a great bed,” Combeferre said as he sat down as well.

“How come they’ve all slept in your bed and I haven’t?” Enjolras asked Grantaire.

Grantaire shrugged, still not sure if he was even able to form coherent sentences. “They just show up, you know? My bed is their bed and all that.”

Enjolras only laughed and took another sip of his coffee.

* * *

Grantaire was up late, already in his pajamas but still working on a couple of commissions, when his doorbell rang. He was pretty sure that none of his friends were out drinking tonight and in need of a place to spend the night, because if they were, they would have taken him with them, but he put his laptop aside anyway, just to check.

He looked through the spyhole and found Enjolras standing outside the door. “What are you doing here?” Grantaire asked once he’d opened the door. He hadn’t meant to sound so surprised, but Enjolras never _just showed up_ and he looked completely and utterly disheveled, his clothes crumpled and his hair in a messy bun, which really wasn’t the usual state Grantaire saw Enjolras in. He was even wearing _glasses_ , for fuck’s sake.

Enjolras bit his lip. “I’m really sorry for bothering you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” Grantaire said lowly. “But that really doesn’t answer my question.”

“It’s really weird,” Enjolras said, and that was it.

“Okay?” Grantaire said, took him by the arm and tugged him into his apartment. “Do you want to explain the weird reason why you’re here?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Enjolras said, looking at him like that explained everything. Well, it did explain the glasses.

Grantaire tilted his head, waiting for him to continue.

“Courfeyrac and Combeferre went out to watch a movie and I didn’t want to come because I didn’t feel like going anywhere, then they texted me that they were going to some bar and they’re still not back and… I don’t even know where I’m going with this.” He sighed. “Anyway, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Can we get to the part where you explain why you decided to come here?”

“I thought about your bed,” Enjolras said, almost looking sheepish now. “It’s a nice bed.”

“Ah,” Grantaire said. Now, _that_ did explain everything. “Come with me.” He steered Enjolras down the hall to his bedroom, trying very hard not to laugh, because Enjolras of all people had fallen for his bed. “Make yourself comfortable, make sure to take the red blanket, that’s the softest one I have, I’ll make you hot chocolate.”

“Hot chocolate?” Enjolras asked, hovering next to the bed with an uncertain expression.

“With marshmallows,” Grantaire said. “It’s tradition. Jehan always makes me hot chocolate when he comes here, but I’ve heard that you can’t even make tea without nearly setting the kitchen on fire, so I thought it safer to do it myself.”

“I know how to make tea,” Enjolras grumbled and stuck out his bottom lip. “But thanks.”

“Sure thing,” Grantaire said. “Sit down, I’ll be right back.”

He made the hot chocolate, was generous with the marshmallows and dug some cookies out of a pantry. When he returned to his room, he found Enjolras sitting at the edge of Grantaire’s bed, still looking a little uncomfortable.

“Yeah, that’s not going to work,” Grantaire mumbled and carefully set down the hot chocolate. He fetched the red blanket, since Enjolras apparently hadn’t dared to, and crawled onto his bed, settling down in the middle. “Come over here,” he added and patted on the mattress.

Enjolras did, his eyes going wide when Grantaire draped the blanket across them.

“Take your hot chocolate,” Grantaire said, leaning back against the pillows. “And hand me mine while you’re at it.”

They finished their hot chocolate in silence, Enjolras ate an astounding amount of cookies, then he started drawing irregular patterns on the blanket with his fingers. “What now?”

“Well, either we discuss the meaning of life and look at the stars, because today’s a clear night and I’m actually a little surprised that Jehan hasn’t come over,” Grantaire said quickly, “or you just go to sleep.”

“Sleep,” Enjolras echoed.

“Yeah, you know, that’s what people usually do when they come here. I can go sleep on the couch if you want, but everyone else usually lets me stay.”

“I’m not throwing you out of your own bed,” Enjolras said seriously.

“How sweet of you,” Grantaire said. “I promise that I’ll do my best not to hit you while I’m asleep.”

Enjolras snorted and sank down a little, staring up at the skylight. “So, people really come here a lot?” he asked, playing with the hem of the blanket.

“Joly and Bossuet come here all the time.” Grantaire turned to look at Enjolras, who still had his eyes trained on the dark sky above them. “Jehan, too,” he continued. “Courfeyrac used to come here a lot, especially after he broke up with that dude… what was his name?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t like him,” Enjolras said, his lips twitching into a smile. “But at least now I know where he always disappeared to.” He looked at him still smiling. “Thanks.”

“For what?” Grantaire asked.

“For caring,” Enjolras replied.

Grantaire tried to think of an answer, but saying _you’re welcome_ would sound completely ridiculous, so he settled for saying nothing at all. This whole situation was weird enough already, he didn’t have to make it even weirder.

“I’m going to turn the lights off, okay?” Grantaire muttered after a while.

“Sure,” Enjolras whispered. “And I can really stay?”

“Do you really think I’d throw you out on the street in the middle of the night?” Grantaire asked, rolling his eyes. “I’m not that much of an asshole.”

“I didn’t mean to insinuate that you…” Enjolras trailed off, shaking his head. “I’m going to take off my jeans.”

“I wouldn’t have thought that I’d ever hear those words come out of your mouth.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “I just don’t want to sleep in my jeans, okay?”

“I know, I got that,” Grantaire said with a laugh. He switched off the lights and padded back over to the bed, trying not to watch as Enjolras peeled off his offensively skinny jeans and clambered back into bed.

“Goodnight,” Enjolras whispered.

“Goodnight,” Grantaire whispered back. He didn’t close his eyes, though, he simply couldn’t. He looked up at the skylight to keep himself from creepily staring at Enjolras. It was hard not to, because he still remembered how cute he’d looked last time, calm and peaceful, and not at all like he was going to start yelling at him any minute now. It was a good look on him and Grantaire got to see it way too little.

“Grantaire,” Enjolras said after a while, sounding wide awake. “Are you sleeping?

Grantaire turned over. “No.”

Enjolras remained silent for a couple of seconds, then he let out a small sigh. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“Courfeyrac and Combeferre are dating, aren’t they?” Enjolras asked, turning over as well.

Quite frankly, Grantaire was pretty sure that they weren’t, but it wasn’t like he had any inside information. “I don’t know.”

“They always go out,” Enjolras said. “I mean, they ask me if I want to come every time, but… sometimes they just stare at each other and I don’t know what the hell they’re doing, but I’m always overcome with the wish to smush their faces together.”

Grantaire couldn’t help but snort. “You want to smush their faces together?”

“I really do,” Enjolras said. “And I’m pretty sure it would work.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Grantaire said, about to reach out to nudge him, but changing his mind halfway. This was Enjolras. They were friends, obviously, but he was pretty sure that they weren’t close enough for nudging and the like.

“I’m serious,” Enjolras said, the smile apparent in his voice.

Grantaire laughed and threw a pillow at him. “Go to sleep.”

“You go to sleep,” Enjolras grumbled.

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do,” Grantaire said, smiling when he closed his eyes.

* * *

“Is Enjolras…” Grantaire frowned, staring at Enjolras, who was currently jumping up and down, trying to snatch a bottle of beer from Combeferre, “…drunk?”

“He’s absolutely fucking smashed,” Joly said, nodding slowly. “He said he could drink me under the table.” He snorted. “Not even you can drink me under the table.”

“Of course I can,” Grantaire grumbled.

“Is that a challenge?” Joly asked, his eyes lighting up.

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Not tonight. Bossuet isn’t here to carry you home.”

Joly started giggling and still hadn’t stopped when Enjolras came stumbling their way, throwing his arms around Joly. “What’s funny?” he asked, obviously having trouble getting the words out of his mouth.

“Grantaire’s funny,” Joly said, smiling broadly.

Enjolras pulled away from Joly, quickly turning his head and whipping his ponytail into Joly’s face in the process.

“Okay, I’m leaving,” Joly muttered, pushing Enjolras over to Grantaire, who caught him with huff, trying not to fall over.

“’Aire,” Enjolras mumbled, clutching at him almost painfully, “I’m tired.”

“Why don’t you go lie down somewhere?” Grantaire asked, desperately trying to keep Enjolras a few inches away from him.

Enjolras hummed. “I want to…” He gripped Grantaire’s shoulder, grinning at him. “Courfeyrac doesn’t want to go home yet. I do, I want to sleep. Everything is so wobbly, Grantaire.” He shook his head, curls coming loose of his hair band, blond hair flying everywhere. “Your bed is just down the street.”

“I know,” Grantaire said. He saw where this was going. “But I literally got here ten minutes ago.”

Enjolras sank down onto a chair with a sigh, looking up at him with his big blue eye, and stuck out his bottom lip. “Please.”

“Jesus,” Grantaire whispered. “How do people say no to you? Has anyone ever denied you anything?”

Enjolras smiled and closed his eyes, and for a second Grantaire thought that he’d just sleep right there, curled up on that chair, but as soon as he tried to move away, Enjolras reached out and caught him by the hem of his shirt. “Please, Grantaire.”

“Why do drunk people like my bed so much,” Grantaire mumbled and pulled Enjolras off his chair, quickly told Combeferre that he’d take Enjolras home, ignored the amused look Combeferre gave the both of them, and half-dragged, half-carried Enjolras down the street to his apartment.

He dropped Enjolras onto his bed, managed to get him out of his shoes and jacket, tucked him in and was just about to go sleep on the couch when Enjolras sat up. “Where are you going?” he asked, sounding more petulant than ever.

“I’m going to the living room,” Grantaire said. “To sleep,” he added when Enjolras frowned.

“You can stay here,” Enjolras said and rolled over to make space for him, wrapping a blanket around himself tightly as he did.

“You’re really fucking drunk,” Grantaire said. “I’m gonna sleep on the couch.”

“Grantaire,” Enjolras mumbled. “Please?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, not that again.” He sighed, wondering what his chances were that he’d convince Enjolras to let him go. He’d seen Enjolras drunk before and he remembered that he’d followed Courfeyrac around all evening, trying to hug him, and hadn’t let off until Courfeyrac had given in and had hugged him to his chest until they’d gone home. “Fine,” Grantaire mumbled, kicked off his jeans and crawled into bed next to Enjolras.

“Your bed is great,” Enjolras whispered, way too close to his ear.

“Yeah, I know,” Grantaire muttered. See, he had been hoping that he might end up with someone in his bed, he’d meant to get incredibly drunk and pick up a random stranger and have mediocre sex that he wouldn’t be able to remember in the morning, but now Enjolras was in his bed. Enjolras, who was making little huffs and puffs and wriggling around under the bedsheets.

“What the fuck are you doing,” Grantaire said flatly.

“I’m taking off my jeans,” Enjolras said, laughing into his pillow. “They’re stuck.”

Grantaire really couldn’t believe this. “How the hell are they stuck?”

“They’re really… they’re just… tight, okay?” Enjolras was still laughing as he fought with his jeans, and Grantaire wasn’t sure if this was the most adorable or the most ridiculous thing that he had ever seen and heard Enjolras do. “Help me,” Enjolras whined.

Enjolras stuck up his leg, and holy hell, was he flexible. Grantaire reached up to pull at Enjolras jeans, yanking them off in one swift motion. “There you go.”

“Thanks,” Enjolras mumbled, sinking down onto the bed again, apparently set on using Grantaire as some kind of human-sized stuffed animal now, since he slung his arm around him, snuggling closer, his face pressed into Grantaire’s curls. “Your hair smells nice.”

“Okay, please go to sleep,” Grantaire said, promising himself that he’d push Enjolras away the second he fell asleep.

He didn’t and woke up with Enjolras still wrapped around him, pleasantly warm and much too close. And that was so not okay. Last time they’d shared the bed they’d each stayed on their own side and Grantaire had made very sure to stay at the very edge of the mattress. Last night that hadn’t worked all that well and Grantaire had slept unfairly well with Enjolras cuddling him, and now he found himself in a state of utter despair.

In an attempt to get Enjolras off of him, he rolled over, but Enjolras clung to him even more tightly than before and burrowed against his chest. Grantaire groaned, obviously loud enough to wake up Enjolras.

“Hmm… what?” Enjolras jerked upright, staring down at Grantaire, blinking rapidly. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry.” He paused for a second, looking like his was thinking hard. “I get really clingy when I’m drunk, I’m so sorry.” He tugged his fingers through his hair. “I made you go home, didn’t I?”

Grantaire nodded. “Yeah, you were quite insistent.”

“I’m sorry,” Enjolras said again, chewing on his bottom lip. “Thanks for letting me stay here, though.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “My head hurts.”

“That’s really not surprising,” Grantaire mumbled and sat up, glad about his lack of hangover. He patted Enjolras’ head. “Stay here, I’ll make eggs and bacon.”

“And coffee?”

“Yeah, and coffee.”

“Thanks,” Enjolras said, rubbing his eyes. “I think I lost one of my contacts.”

“Well, you can go look for it while I’m gone.”

Enjolras snorted, grabbed the duvet and yanked it over his head. “No, I can’t move.”

Grantaire only rolled his eyes and padded off towards the kitchen.

* * *

Grantaire didn’t see Enjolras again until two weeks later, when he found him sitting at the top of the stairs leading up to his apartment. He stopped dead at the bottom of the stairs, frowning. “What the fuck.”

Enjolras scrambled to his feet, waving at him awkwardly.

“Why are you sitting outside my apartment?” Grantaire asked, slowly making his way up the stairs.

“You missed two meetings,” Enjolras said.

“I did,” Grantaire said, “I was busy.” It was only half a lie, really. “I told Joly I couldn’t make it, didn’t he tell you?”

“He did,” Enjolras said, trudging into Grantaire’s flat once Grantaire had unlocked the door. “I just wanted to check on you. You know, Joly said that maybe you weren’t feeling well, but obviously you’re okay. Anyway, I just wanted to drop by, but then you weren’t there. And then it started raining.”

“Yeah, it hasn’t stopped yet,” Grantaire mumbled and shrugged off his jacket.

Enjolras nodded, looking down at his shoes, obviously not keen on walking home in the rain.

Grantaire sighed. This was bound to be awkward, but he really couldn’t make Enjolras leave. “Why don’t you stay until it lets off?”

Enjolras smiled and toed off his shoes, quickly skipping off down the hall. Grantaire should be used to people going straight for his bed by now.

“You know, sometimes I think I should just sell my couch, because no one ever wants to sit on it anyway,” Grantaire said as he followed Enjolras into his bedroom. “Not that I mind constantly having people in my bed,” he added, winking at Enjolras, whose cheeks immediately turned a lovely shade of pink.

“It’s just really comfortable here,” Enjolras muttered and let himself fall back, looking up at the skylight.

Grantaire tilted his head and hummed thoughtfully. “Don’t move.”

“Why?” Enjolras asked, but obediently stayed right where he was.

“Because,” Grantaire said and went to fetch his sketchbook. By the time he was done with his drawing, Enjolras had dozed off.

He successfully resisted the urge to reach out and stroke Enjolras’ hair and leaned back so he could watch the rain pour down on the skylight.

 “I’ve been thinking about Combeferre and Courfeyrac,” Enjolras said all of a sudden.

Grantaire hadn’t even noticed that he’d woken up again. He chuckled. “Do you still want to smush their faces together?”

“Yeah, but that’s not the point,” Enjolras muttered. “I was just wondering why they don’t… do something about it, I mean, they clearly like each other.”

“Maybe they’re, I don’t know, scared?” Frankly, it was a mystery to him as well, because if there were two people who were definitely made for each other, it was Combeferre and Courfeyrac.

Enjolras shrugged. “Anyway, I thought I should….”

“You should?” Grantaire prompted.

He was wondering if he’d get to hear some kind of elaborate plan on how Enjolras was going to smush their faces together, Enjolras, however, didn’t say anything, only hooked his pinky finger around Grantaire’s.

Grantaire turned his head, hoping for some kind of explanation, but Enjolras was still looking up at the ceiling, as stiff as a statue. Grantaire cleared his throat. “Enjolras?”

“Grantaire,” Enjolras whispered.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m holding your hand.”

“That is not my hand,” Grantaire said, his lips twitching, resisting the urge to just start giggling hysterically.

“Grantaire,” Enjolras said, his voice taking on an exasperated tone.

“Sorry,” Grantaire said and turned to lie on his side, holding on to Enjolras’ pinky. “Why are you holding my pinky finger?”

Enjolras turned over as well and let go of Grantaire, much to his disappointment. Grantaire was starting to think that maybe he’d been joking around a little too much, but then Enjolras took a deep breath and said, “I like you.”

Grantaire, temporarily lost for words, reached out to tug at Enjolras’ shirt and thankfully Enjolras got the hint, inched a little closer and made it all too easy for Grantaire to lean in and kiss him.

Enjolras smiled against his lips when he pulled away to catch his breath. “Just for the record, it’s not just because I want to spend more time in your bed.”

“Ah, but you do want to spend more time in my bed?” Grantaire asked, not waiting for Enjolras to answer, and pulled him close again, gently nipping at his bottom lip before he kissed him properly, drawing a low moan from him that made Grantaire shiver a little.

The rain had long since stopped tapping onto the skylight when they pulled apart again.


End file.
